Ziva Shacklebolt
by GoldenDawn13
Summary: Ziva Shacklebolt wonders about her mother's past.


Ziva Shacklebolt hurried home, tears flowing down her face. She knocked on the door, clinging onto the warmth of her cloak. Hestia Shacklebolt, her mum, opened the door, and gasped at the sight.

"Ziva? What are doing out in this weather? Aren't you supposed to be at Frank's house for Christmas break?"

Ziva angrily swiped her tears away. "Frank Longbottom is an idiot!" she exclaimed, dark eyes flashing. Her mother sighed, and conjured a hanky for her.

"Why don't we sit down and have a little chat?" the mother said gently, preparing two cups of tea.

The mother and 14 year old daughter settled down by the fireplace, sipping their tea.

"Frank and I were skating at the pond near his house," Ziva finally said, staring at the crackling embers.

"Then what happened?" asked Hestia softly.

"We decided we would freeze to death if we stayed out any longer, and started walking back. On the way, we met two boys. They were a bit older than us, and all of a sudden they start making fun of me!" the daughter sniffs.

"Why?" asked the startled mother.

"I guess they didn't really like some of the stuff the Minister of Magic does, and they easily guessed I was his daughter. I tried to ignore them, but then they started saying horrible stuff about you," explained Ziva, with a hint of anger in her voice.

"About me?" Hestia asks her eyebrows shooting up. Her daughter nods. "So what did you do then?"

"I ran here."

"Did Frank do anything?"

Anger rushed through Ziva's veins. "No!" she growled. "He didn't do anything. They were saying all these mean stuff and he did _nothing_. I thought friends were supposed to look out for each other," Ziva added quietly.

"Is that all?" asked her mum. Ziva started to nod and then quickly shook her head.

"Mum," she started off hesitantly. "What the two idiotic morons," her mother raised her eyebrows at her use of language, "were saying was also covered in the Daily Prophet today."

"Let me guess," Hestia laughed. "The article was done by that cow Rita Skeeter." Ziva grinned, nodding.

"Her daughter goes to Hogwarts too, and everyone calls her Cow Jr. behind her back." Mother and daughter laughed.

"I heard about the article too," Hestia nodded.

"You did? I owled dad to throw out the newspaper in the morning so you wouldn't notice," frowned Ziva, and then flushed realizing what she had just said.

Her mum just grinned. "Your godmother, Minerva, told me about it. She was mainly warning me about the dirty looks I would get from all the Skeeter readers when I went to work at Mungo's today."

Ziva stared at the sparking fire. Hestia gave her a worried look and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. The 14 year old daughter shrugged it off.

"Is it true?" she asked to the fire. "Is it really true that you married someone else and had a daughter? Did they really die during the First and Second War? Did you just marry Dad for fame? Why did you name me after your first daughter?" she asked bitterly.

Hestia Jones-Prewett-Shacklebolt frowned. "Do you really believe all those horrible things Rita said about me? Do you think I just marry for fame and money and that when my spouse dies I move on to another handsome man?"

"No," Ziva said slightly shocked. Her mum's shoulders visibly relaxed. "Of course I don't."

"Then why do you sound like you do?" the mother asked quietly, dark eyes brimmed with sadness.

"Mum, please," sighed Ziva. "I…I guess…you never really told me about your first husband or my namesake and I…I don't know really what to believe."

Hestia smiled sadly at her younger, carbon copy. "My love story is a bit of a tragic one, dear. I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear it until you were older."

But," she added softly and Ziva looked up. "I think you're ready now."

Ziva snuggled in the tight space between her mother and the chair.

"During Hogwarts, I was friends with six other people. We became extremely close and called ourselves the Superb Seven. Later on, as we got older, I developed a crush on Fabian Prewett, Lily's grandmother's younger brother." Ziva blinked in surprise but didn't say anything. "The two of us got married and when I was pregnant; your step dad got killed during a Death Eater raid." Hestia's voice was plain and flat, but Ziva could see her sadness flickering in her face.

"Your namesake was born, and I named her Ziva, which meant free. I wanted her to live a free life without Voldemort. The First Wizarding War was over and so were all of the Superb Seven's lives, except mine. Kingsley and I were good friends, but that was it. The Second Wizarding War was soon over and your namesake sacrificed her life for first years locked up in a dungeon. The second Order of the Phoenix was killed and Kingsley and I were the only ones left."

Ziva glanced sadly at her mother, squeezing her hand tightly.

"I became the Transfiguration teacher and Kingsley and I became close, getting over our grief with each other. We fell in love and married. I had you, and decided to retire teaching. Your father was the one who first suggested naming you Ziva. We continued on with life, Kingsley the Minister of Magic, me the Healer at Mungo's, and you, our daughter Ziva," smiled Hestia Shacklebolt, tears sliding down her cheeks.

Silence fell on the house.

"That's so… sad," Ziva finally said, a burn sliding down her throat.

"That's life, dear. There are many ups and downs, especially in mine, but it had a beautiful ending," her mum said, eyes twinkling like dark stars.

Ziva was silent for a second and then quickly jumped out of the chair. "Mum. Grab your cloak. We're going on a walk."

Hand covering her mother's eyes, Ziva carefully led her to the gate.

Wordlessly, the daughter removed her hand. Hestia stared at the two headstones in front of her. Memories flashed through her mind. She remembered the fiery hair, the midnight-blue, gray eyes.

Ziva placed a beautiful daffodil by her namesake's grave. Hestia hugged her daughter tightly, and walked up to her first love's grave, conjuring an orange tulip for him.

Mother and daughter let the serene peacefulness wash over them, lying on the grass stargazing, as the moon shined down on them.


End file.
